Feel that? That's a trickle!

Reagan: Sacred in Death

I wasn't going to put down anything about Reagan -- I just wasn't interested. But then I was thinking that maybe I should, simply for the fact that when I have looked back on my journals from my days of yore, I have regretted not noting down important times, either in my life or in "history."

Unfortunately, I don't really have any good things to say about Reagan. Yes, I remember him and his charisma (he was an actor, for Christ's sake), but I also remember him for all the damage he did to me and my family. Picture this: A young girl living in poverty, being raised by her grandparents (earning Social Security and a paltry pension), with AFDC checks coming in and college looming in the future. Now think about Reagan and his mighty slashing sword of budget cuts. If I was a big shiny missile or a big fat millionaire, I would probably kneel down and worship the man. But for someone like me, who was terrified about not being able to go to college and for her grandparents whose combined salary was about 40% of what I'm earning now (and I don't make shit!), Reagan was evil.

I think there's something in our society of canonizing people after they die. No matter how awful they were, there's something so taboo about talking about anything negative. I guess I understand it, and yet....I don't. It seems so hypocritical. And let's face it, the dead person doesn't give a fuck. Funerals are for the living.

My own grandfather was an intriguing and charming man, but also in many ways, a horrible man. I won't get into all the details, you don't need to pity me any more, but there was a part of me that was relieved when he passed away. Do i think he loved me? Yes, I think so. But I don't think he liked me, and there really is a difference.

The interesting thing was his daughter, whom had really suffered from his actions during her life, has completely turned him into a saint since his death. She sometimes think he communicates with her, she's the only one who goes out to his grave (deep in the far desert, in a military grave), and once when someone showed me that site Find A Grave, I found she had already left her nauseatingly loving message for him.

Rude? Yes. I loved my grandfather, but I am adult now and I see things with different eyes.

I think when I die, I would rather have people talk about my good AND bad habits. I wasn't a saint in life, I don't need to be one in death.